


Stood Up, Make Love

by illfoandillfie



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: (sub!joe), Breeding Kink, Choking, Creampie, Dom/sub, F/M, Miscommunication, bad date experience, will i ever write something where the two characters aren't complete idiots? doubtful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24785812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illfoandillfie/pseuds/illfoandillfie
Summary: What's worse than being stood up?Maybe seeing the guy everywhere you go.
Relationships: Joe Mazzello/Reader
Kudos: 7





	Stood Up, Make Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is a super late entry for the Level of Concern event held on tumblr! I didn't expect it to get as long as it did but here we are.

You’d never expected to have a nemesis. You’d definitely not expected to have such a hot nemesis, though him being so attractive made you oddly proud. Maybe it was proof you weren’t quite as shallow as you sometimes worried you were, or maybe it just made the tensions between you easier to stomach. When you first saw him you’d kind of hoped to date him, or at least see him naked. He’d been standing on the opposite side of the bar at the _Twisted Ox_ with a group of his friends, waiting for their round of drinks. You glanced at him right as he looked at you. His smile was charming and he looked faintly embarrassed about being caught checking you out, but he gave you another look before he took his beer and followed the other men to a table. The group you were with found yourselves a spot and you made sure you were in a good enough position to keep an eye on him for the rest of the night, just in case he decided to say hi. Your eye may have been kept too close though. Millie, perceptive as always, noticed your distraction and took it upon herself to make a move for you. You watched, half in horror, half in thanks, as she approached him and tapped on his shoulder. They talked for a minute and you tried not to blush as he looked over your way. There was that smile again.   
“I hope you’re free on Tuesday night,” Millie said as she bounced back towards you.  
“I can’t believe you talked to him. I was playing it cool and now he probably thinks I’m a loser who needs her friends to get her dates.”  
“Joe definitely doesn’t think that.”  
“Is that his name? Joe?”  
Millie nodded and emptied her glass.  
“Well? What’d you say to him?”  
“All I said was that you were my friend and you’d been looking at him all night and you’d like to buy him a drink.”  
“And?”  
“And he said he can’t have a drink now because it’s his friend’s stag night but would you like to have dinner on Tuesday instead. I told him you would like that very much and he said he’d see you around 7.00 at _Lorenzo’s_.   
“Fuck, really?”  
“Yuuuup. I gave him your number too.”   
“Holy shit, are you serious?”  
“You’re welcome. You can pay me back by getting me another,” she shook her empty glass at you.

You were excited to say the least. The following Tuesday evening was spent primping and preening – hair soft, makeup as near to perfection as you’d ever managed, wearing your favourite dress and the white moonstone necklace you considered a lucky charm – and then waiting around until it was close enough to the hour to leave without arriving too early. Joe wasn’t at _Lorenzo’s_ when you got there but you did have to give him credit for his choice of restaurant, the rich aroma of Italian food wafted from the kitchen into the light, open dining space that was already partially full. You peered around the room, hoping to spot him amongst the other diners.   
“Can I help you ma’am?” a young woman, her curly red hair tied up in a bun, wearing the black and white waiter’s uniform asked having handed out bowls of pasta to a nearby family of five.  
“Oh, um, I’m looking for someone but I’m not sure he’s here yet. Is there a reservation for Joe?”  
“Sorry honey, we don’t take reservations. I can show you to a table though.”  
“That’d be wonderful, thank you.”   
“Just this way. And you said there was two of you?”  
“Well there will be,” you said with a nervous laugh, trying to look at all the people you passed in case Joe was amongst them.  
“Is it a date?”  
“Yeah,”  
“I’ll put you here,” she said with a smile as you stopped at a table for two, “give you a good view of the front so you can spot him when he comes in. What was your name?”  
“Oh it’s Y/N,”  
“Lovely to meet you Y/N, I’m Billie. I’ll keep my eye peeled for your Joe, just let me know if you need anything.”  
“Thank you so much,”  
You took a seat and watched Billie weave her way back through the tables and chairs cluttering the room, stopping at this table and then that to check if they needed anything else. But it didn’t take long for your attention to be focused on the front door. You glanced at your phone and subconsciously fiddled with your necklace, rubbing your thumb over the stone. It was only a few minutes after 7.00, Joe was bound to turn up any second.

By 7.10 you were worried, unsure whether to keep watching the door or do another sweep of the room in case you’d missed him and he was waiting at another table. At 7.15 Billie came back past and asked if you’d like a drink while you waited. You accepted, needing something to occupy your hands so you could stop nervously clacking your nails on the wooden tabletop. At 7.30 you’d begun to lose hope. You texted Millie just to double check she’d got the time and day and place right but she swore up and down she had and told you to be patient.   
“He’s probably just caught in traffic or something.”  
“Maybe. You didn’t happen to get his number?”  
“Sorry no. But he’s got yours, I’m sure he’ll call any second to say he’s running late”  
Classic Millie, always thinking the best of everyone. You put your phone away and gave a tight smile to the couple at the table next to you who smiled back and then began whispering. At 7.45 you called it a night. Waiting any longer felt pointless, pathetic. You were too much of a realist to believe Joe was going to show and besides, you were sick of the pitying looks everyone around you sent in your direction. It felt like the whole restaurant was talking about what a fool you were. Best case scenario he’d call later and apologise and ask you to swallow some story about a work meeting or a conversation with a family member he couldn’t shut up or some other lame excuse. More likely he wouldn’t bother. Why would he? You were just some girl from a bar who’d not even had the balls to talk to him herself. Billie caught you as you hoisted your bag onto your shoulder.  
“He didn’t show?”  
“Nope,”  
“Prick. Would you like to order something to go instead?”  
You hesitated, stomach in knots that made keeping down food seem improbable, but one glance at the plates on the table next to yours changed your mind. The food looked so hearty and comforting and that’s what you needed. You settled on the rigatoni with a side of garlic bread and Billie hurried into the kitchen to let the cooking staff know. It wasn’t until you got home that you found she’d added a serve of the tiramisu on the house.

If you lived in a kinder world where the universe didn’t enjoy making you suffer, that would have been it. A night spent in PJs, drowning your sorrows in beautiful food and a re-watch of _When Harry Met Sally_. You could have bitched to Millie and moved on, forgotten about Joe the Jerk and then hopefully found someone else to take the sting off. But, alas, the powers that be seemed to have a vendetta against you. It wasn’t enough to be stood up. You had to see the jerk around everywhere you went. When you were buying groceries he was there, comparing cereal boxes or in line to pay a little ahead of you. If you went to the mall with your friends he was there, browsing the shelves in a book store or in the food court with his pals. You saw him on your commute to work, at the bars and clubs you frequented on nights out, everywhere you went. And what started out as unwanted but brief sightings soon turned into a constant back and forth of annoying behaviours. It was his fault though. He was the one who turned up at your favourite coffee shop half a minute before you did every day and he was the one who always bought the last box of three macarons before you could. It was infuriating. So, one afternoon you left work early specifically to get to the café before him and buy his afternoon tea out from under him. It worked. You were ahead in the queue when he arrived and you made sure he saw you taking a bite as you left. In retaliation he offered to pay for the person served after you. The passive aggression continued for weeks. Stolen parking spaces, drinks spilt on shoes, spoiled movie plots, anything was fair game. You saw him wearing a Yankees shirt so bought yourself a Red Sox cap which you delighted in pulling out whenever he was around. In retaliation he cut in front of you at the bank. It slowly escalated until one day you saw him chatting up another woman, at the same bar you’d first seen him. That annoyed you more than anything else he’d done and you couldn’t put your finger on why exactly. Instead of thinking about it too much, you waited until he’d gone back to the bar to get them another drink and sidled up to her. Just to warn her what he was like. She agreed what he’d done to you was a dick move and that she could do better, and you had the pleasure of watching her make an excuse to leave.

You began referring to him solely as your rival, your nemesis. Nothing else made sense. When you first saw him you’d hoped you were looking at your soulmate or a lover. Now you understood how wrong you’d been. Every glimpse of his stupid handsome face made you want to tear out your own hair. Apparently it wasn’t enough for him to embarrass you by leaving you at a table for two on your own, he also insisted he have the final metaphorical word in your escalating game of tit-for-tat.   
“Does he have to be fucking everywhere I go?” you asked your friends, scowling as you watched Joe’s figure head into a store ahead of you, “It’s like playing fucking Russian Roulette except the gun’s fully loaded and instead of blowing my brains I have to relive being completely humiliated.”  
“You don’t think it could be because Joe’s like, obsessed with you?”  
“Absolutely not, Riley. And I told you not to say his name around me. Bad enough I have to see him everywhere.”  
Millie rolled her eyes, “Maybe it’s not the universe making you suffer. Maybe it’s the universe trying to give you another shot. He was very nice when I talked to him, didn’t seem the type to stand anyone up and he was really pleased when I pointed you out.”  
“Nope, no way. He ruined his chance. His status has been downgraded from Potential Future Husband to Nemesis.”  
“Again with the _nemesis_? You do realise how comic book that sounds, don’t you?” Millie asked as Riley laughed.  
“Maybe he’s the Magneto to my Professor X.”  
“Magneto and Professor X are fucking. You think maybe you’re confusing anger for horniness?”  
“Fine the…Evil Alien Guy to my Captain Marvel then.”  
“Your telling me you wouldn’t fuck Jude Law?” Riley sniggered.  
Millie rolled her eyes again, “Real people don’t have nemesis-es…nemisi? Whatever they’re called.”  
You scoffed as you past the store and lost sight of Joe, “You’re only saying that because you created this mess.”   
“Has he ever tried to talk to you?” Millie asked, keen to draw the heat off herself.  
“No, thank god. That would be the only thing that could make the whole situation worse.”  
Of course, saying that was like a movie character saying _well at least it’s not raining_ right before the thunder started.

A little over a month since you’d been meant to go out with Joe, a midweek girl's night out was organised to blow off steam and you found yourself being dragged through the doorway of the _Twisted Ox_. It wasn’t your idea. You weren’t in the mood to see Joe, even to annoy him, and you’d given other suggestions, but they’d all been knocked back on account of the drinks being too expensive or the vibes being too seedy. It didn’t help that everyone seemed to think you were overreacting. Which left you looking around warily, lest Joe show up as well, a habit you seemed to repeat just about everywhere you went now. After about half an hour you felt able to relax. You hadn’t seen him at all and there were enough people that you felt fairly confident you could avoid him if he did turn up. Of course, the drinks helped too. You weren’t a big drinker but it was certainly harder to worry about anything after a couple of pina coladas. By the time Joe actually did cross your field of vision, standing with a couple of those same friends you’d first seen him with, you were less inclined to care. The whole point of having a night out was to forget about whatever was on your mind be that work, family dramas or idiot boys. So you stuck to the table your group had managed to claim, only leaving to buy the next round. If you kept one eye on Joe it was only so you could be sure you wouldn’t head over to the barman at the same time he did. It definitely had nothing to do with how nice his bum looked in those pants or the way his fingers wrapped around his bottle of beer. In fact, you successfully avoided any contact with Joe all night. Not one awkward run in, not a butted in drink order or rolled eye or even so much as a glance from him. You were quietly congratulating yourself when the talk turned to heading home. Plans were made for an extended repeat over the weekend, one that would probably lead you to a club or two, but you were all sufficiently tipsy for a weeknight and adult responsibilities were knocking. With much chatter you all collected your belongings and headed out into the night, a few splitting off to find the nearest bus as the rest of you milled around on the sidewalk waiting for your rides – caring partners and paid strangers alike.

You watched as each of your friends left, waiting for your driver to turn up too, until you were the last one there. Leaning against the wall of the bar, you looked at the map on your phone then to the road and back at your phone again. Until the door of the bar opening and closing once more drew your attention. The man who stepped out onto the sidewalk made a derisive noise in the back of his throat and you wondered which spirit you’d pissed off to earn another runin.   
“It’s you,” Joe said, tone completely devoid of joy.  
“It’s me,”  
“This where you come when you stand guys up?”  
If you’d been more sober you’d have let him leave without another word but the alcohol had loosed your tongue and your frustration had quickly bubbled to the surface in his presence. “When I what?” You asked, pushing yourself off the wall. You were shorter than him though the heels you wore negated the difference somewhat.   
“You heard me.”  
“Yes but you must have been speaking out of your ass because it sounded like you accused me of standing you up.”  
“Well if the shoe fits.”  
Without realising you’d stepped towards Joe and he’d mirrored you, both of you well and truly in the other’s personal space.   
“Left me sitting in that restaurant for a fucking hour waiting for you to show up. And then,” he continued, “you make it your personal mission to piss me off in the pettiest ways possible.” Joe took a step back, putting himself closer to the wall.   
You had no choice but to follow, “You deserve it.”   
“I deserve it do I?”   
It was only then you noticed just how close you were standing. It was a matter of inches. You were close enough to clearly see the blush colouring his cheeks, able to smell the musty air of the bar on him, beer and pretzels and something underneath it, sweet and a little citrusy, probably whatever overpriced fragrance he wore. And you could feel heat radiating off him as he took another step back, putting him right up against the wall. He was looking down at you though there was something in his gaze beside annoyance.   
“Well? You going to answer?”  
Was he egging you on? “Yes, you deserve it. You stood me up.”  
“Oh yeah?”  
“Yeah.” He was totally egging you on. When did that happen? Around the time he stepped around you, backed himself into the corner. And then it hit you, “Oh my god.”  
“What?”  
“You’re turned on by this!”   
His blush deepened as he spluttered out a disagreement.  
“Do you ever tell the truth? You’re enjoying this. Is that why you’ve been following me around? Trying to push my buttons enough so you could get in my pants despite everything. Maybe you’d like it if I ordered you to apologise, to earn my forgiveness. Or if I told you how pathetic you are and made you -” Your breath caught as Joe closed what little distance there was and kissed you, cutting you off and sending your mind blank. It was definitely not how you’d imagine your night would go but you didn’t stop it. It wasn’t a bad kiss. In fact, you'd go so far as to call it a good kiss, if a little unexpected. And if anything, that made you more annoyed. Here was this attractive guy, who was clearly attracted to you, who you had chemistry with, and he had to go and throw the whole thing away by being inconsiderate and rude. Joe whined as you grazed his lip with your teeth. You raised your hand to the wall, bracing yourself against it, almost pinning Joe in place as he surrendered control to you.

Your phone beeped, alerting you to the approach of your car, and you pulled away though you remained standing close. It took a moment for your brain to catch up but once it had you scrambled backwards, finding it difficult to drag your gaze from Joe’s face. A smudge of lipstick decorated his mouth and he looked just as stunned as you felt. Had it not been for the headlights appearing around the corner you might have been tempted to kiss him again, but by the time the car had pulled up you were ready to get as far away from Joe as possible.   
The young man who was driving glanced at Joe through the window, “Is he…?”  
“Absolutely not.”  
He nodded and pulled away from the curb and you let out a breath as you relaxed into the backseat. Not that putting distance between you helped much. You spent the entire ride home thinking about what had happened, wondering how and why and what the fuck. You were operating on autopilot as you got out of the car and headed to your apartment, staring into space in the rickety old elevator, your mind never leaving Joe. The kiss itself kept you occupied for most of the night. You tried watching TV, tried reading, tried playing Animal Crossing to distract yourself but none of them really worked. All you could think about was how his lips had felt, how he’d leaned his weight against the wall and essentially invited you to take control. His fingers had been light on your hips, or…had they? Had he even actually touched you or had he been waiting for you to place his hands where you wanted them? It was a puzzling moment, so sudden and confusing and unexpected. And yet despite everything you had to admit you were more than a little aroused by it, the damp spot in your underwear proof enough. But, as you tried to force yourself to stop thinking and sleep, one thing nagged at you more than anything else. Why would he have accused you of not showing up for the date? You’d been there, on your own. You knew he was in the wrong. There was no one else to convince so why had he tried to blame you? He must have known that was never going to work. Unless he was a bigger dick than you’d given him credit for and was making a shitty attempt at gaslighting you. But what was his endgame? Was he trying to get into your pants or get you to agree to another date? Or was it about getting you to forgive him so he could feel better about what he’d done? Your head swam with the possibilities and when you finally did manage to get to sleep it wasn’t particularly deep or restful.

The next day, while on your fourth cup of coffee, you decided it was best to try and avoid Joe until you stopped getting wet at the thought of what it would be like to boss him around and make him apologise to you properly. You did your grocery shopping at a different supermarket and on a different day than normal, just to be sure you wouldn’t run into him and have to have an awkward meeting in front of the frozen vegetables. But he seemed to be thinking along the same lines. When you expected to see him at the coffee shop, ahead of you in line and wearing a shit eating grin, he wasn’t there. Nor was he anywhere to be seen when you met up with people at the mall, or any of the other places you’d come to expect him to be. It was a relief but it was also weird not seeing him. Joe had apparently become part of your routine, part of your everyday, and his absence was noticeable. It lulled you into a false sense of security, made you believe you were free of him completely. So, when you next crossed paths you were caught out and unprepared. Though that was partially because you’d never expected to see him in the elevator of your building.

You were on your way home from work when the rain started. You could have beaten the weather except you got held up later than you should have been and then you’d stopped for takeout on the way because there was no way in hell you were going to be cooking that night. So as you hurried into your building and saw someone getting into the beaten up elevator you called out for them to hold it, more focused on getting the food up to your apartment while it was still hot than anything else. It wasn’t until the doors were shut and you’d pressed the button for your floor that you realised who was standing beside you. A second later you realised how see through your white shirt looked where the rain had hit it.   
“What are you doing here?”  
Joe looked a little taken aback by your tone, his eyes quickly darting up to your face, “Uh, visiting a friend. What are you doing here?”  
“I live here, jerk.” your rapidly declining mood was only made worse by Joe’s sudden appearance and you resisted the urge to cross your arms over your chest.  
He scoffed and turned away.  
“And what does that mean?”  
“Nothing. Just think it’s pretty rich for _you_ to call _me_ a jerk.”  
“Well what did you expect? You stood me up and then you still thought you could kiss me, and I’d just be cool with it?”  
He turned towards you, “How dare you try and turn this around on me.”  
“Fucking hell, just man up and take responsibility for your actions. Do you have any idea how humiliating it was to wait for you? All those judgemental whispers and pitying glances.”  
“Yes I know. Because that’s what you did to me. And let me say, crowd at _Lorenzo’s_ at seven on a Wednesday fucking sucks. There was this one nosey waitress –”   
A grinding noise cut him off followed by a jolt as the elevator went dark and stopped in its tracks.  
“Fuck,” you said, digging around in your bag for your phone, "Power must have gone out.”  
“What are you doing?”  
Your phone lit up the space in front of it and you ignored Joe as you made your way to the panel of buttons, locating the red emergency one. You pressed it and nothing happened.  
“Umm,” you pressed it again, still nothing. “Great. Fucking great. We’re trapped.”  
“Let me try,”  
“Are you kidding? You think you can press a button better than I can?”  
“Well I can do it with less bitching.”  
“Be my fucking guest then. I’m going to try calling someone,”  
“There won’t be any service,” he warned.  
You checked your phone anyway, scowling when you saw he was right. Each unusable idea make your heart beat faster and had you worrying more and more. You stepped towards the door, standing on tip toe, holding your phone up to see if you could get any bars but Joe just scoffed and attempted to press the help button again.   
“Still nothing,” you sighed.  
“Like I said,”  
“Yeah okay, you can shut up now.”  
“What are you doing?” Joe asked as you began typing on your phone.  
“Writing a little note so that when they find out bodies they don’t assume we were friends.”   
“We’re not going to die,” he said, exasperated, and leaned against the wall, “There should be a backup generator that’ll come on any minute,”  
“Do you ever shut up or do you really have to have the last word every time?"  
“I could ask you the same thing, but I know one thing that gets you to shush,”  
You threw him a questioning look as you tried banging on the elevator door.  
“It certainly worked well enough outside that bar.”  
You had to blink back your shock, “Are you seriously hitting on me right now?”  
“I’m just saying, we’ve got time to kill until the power comes back, which, judging by the age of this elevator, is going to be a couple more minutes. And last time was fun.”  
“Sorry, I have this little thing called dignity.”  
Joe shrugged, “Suit yourself. But you gotta admit it’d be hot.”  
You rolled your eyes and tried to pretend you didn’t agree.   
“Y’know,” Joe continued, ignoring you, “I bet we’d have some pretty hot sex too.”  
You nearly choked on your own saliva, completely taken aback and not knowing how to react.   
“Almost enough for me to give you a second chance and ask you out again. But, like you said, dignity.”  
Suddenly the elevator ground to life again, the lights coming back on and nearly blinding you. There was a hum and a click and then you began moving again.  
“See, told you we weren’t going to die.”  
“You’re an asshole.”  
“Maybe, but I got you to stop panicking.”  
You fell into silence, grappling with too many different emotions to say anything, and Joe chuckled to himself. It wasn’t until much later, after you’d changed out of your work clothes, and served up your dinner that you realised the truth of what had happened. You’d been too distracted by the power outage to pick it at the time but something had been off about his story. Not just the bit where he painted himself as the wronged party. He’d said Wednesday. _Seven on a Wednesday_. But your date had been on a Tuesday.

“Wait, he said that? Oh my god!” Millie squealed as you finished recounting the minutes you’d spent trapped. Unsurprisingly it took much longer to go over every detail of the conversation and the play by play of the heart stopping moment you’d been plunged into darkness, than the actual time you’d spent in the elevator with Joe. But you’d had most of the discussion across a café table and fortified yourself with cups of tea and plates of sourdough smeared in jam. Not a bad way to go about it and explaining it all to Millie certainly helped you find the humour in the whole situation. And on top of that, it had also given you a chance to straighten your thoughts about Joe as Millie was constantly asking questions of how you felt about him and where you now stood. You’d come to the conclusion that he was very attractive and very much your type and you were definitely sexually compatible. When Millie pushed the issue you admitted that, if the chance arose, you’d like to ask him why he’d rocked up to _Lorenzo’s_ on the wrong day. Keeping it as unaccusatory as you possibly could, of course. You conceded that perhaps he wasn’t as bad as you’d believed and that maybe _nemesis_ had been a little too strong a word, though you also made it clear that Joe’s eagerness to blame you for the whole situation and how easily he apparently held a grudge, were not turn-ons. You pretended not to hear when Millie dared to suggest you were similar to him in that regard.  
“So, if you told him about the mix up with the days and he asked you out again, would you say yes?”  
“Um, I’m not sure. Maybe. He may have been upgraded from nemesis status but probably only to potential fuck. If that.”  
“So is that a yes?”  
“I don’t know Mils,” you sighed, “depends what he says and how he asks.”  
“Well now’s a good time to find out.” She pointed over your shoulder and you turned to see Joe, waiting in line, scrolling through his phone. The next few moments were spent hissing back and forth as Millie tried to get you to go talk to him and you adamantly refused.   
“I didn’t mean right now. I don’t know what to say,”  
“Just go up to him and say bee tee dubs you were there on the wrong day and also I want to domme you because I think you’d sound hot whining. Wanna come back to mine?”  
“No way, not happening,”  
It was a miracle you didn’t catch Joe’s eye or ear, but he ordered and collected his coffee and left without so much as glancing in your direction.  
“Last chance. Go,” Millie said, lightly kicking at you under the table.  
You huffed out a breath a stood up, “fine, fine I’ll go. I hate when you get like this.”

Joe was already partway up the street when you exited the café, forcing you to run after him. He turned when you called his name, surprise written all over his face.   
“Y/N? If you’re going to have another go at me you can save it. I think I’ve heard it all already.”  
“You actually haven’t.”  
Joe rolled his eyes and seemed as if he was about to say something but you kept talking, determined not to get side-tracked or distracted.  
“I thought it was weird that you kept accusing me of standing you up when I knew that’s what you’d done to me. I figured it was some weird power play thing but I couldn’t work out why. And then while we were in the elevator you said something interesting.”  
“You chased after me to say you would like to have sex?”  
“What? No,” you felt your cheeks burning and fought the urge to stomp your foot as Joe grinned, clearly proud of himself.  
“That wasn’t me chasing you. I just thought you might want to know that I was right. Either you were too hungover to remember that our date was set for a Tuesday or you changed it to a Wednesday without telling me. If it’s the first I forgive you, can happen to the best of us. If it’s the second you get nothing because you’re obviously an inconsiderate asshole.”  
“Well done Sherlock, you figured it out. I had to switch the date because of a work thing but you’re still wrong. I texted you. And you never responded. So now who’s the inconsiderate asshole.”  
“What?”  
“Don’t know why I’m bothering since you’re obviously playing dumb but here,” he reached into his pocket for his phone and navigated to his sent messages, holding it up for you to see. There was the message. Politely apologetic in its wording, requesting you meet on the Wednesday instead because something had come up he couldn’t get out of. And above it was your name, slightly misspelt though you supposed that was from trying to get it down quickly as Millie gave him your details, and followed by _Twisted Ox_ in brackets. You’d never seen it before in your life.   
“Give me a look at that,” you said, taking the phone from his hand.  
“Hey, give it back!”  
You ignored Joe as you clicked through to fix the spelling of your name and saw the problem, “That’s not my number dipshit.”  
“Yes it it, dipshit. It’s exactly what your friend said.”  
“You’ve got the four and the six around the wrong way.”  
His face paled, “What? So you never got it?”  
“Nope.”  
“So you turned up on the Tuesday?”  
“Yup.”  
“And that’s why we both thought we’d been stood up. Shit.”  
Once more you found yourself staring uncertainly at Joe. He stared back. You might have stayed there for ever, trying to work out what to do or say next, if it weren’t for the young woman pushing a stroller along the sidewalk who forced you to move out of the way.   
“I feel kind of bad about calling you an asshole now,” Joe said softly.  
“Same. Well, only a little. You were still a bit of a dick.”  
“That’s why I said _kind of_. You were still a bitch.”  
“Glad we got that sorted, see you never,” you turned to walk away but Joe ducked in front of you, blocking your path.  
“Wait, hold up. Let’s just...do you want to go out sometime? I promise I’ll give you the right day and everything.”   
“Uhh,” you still weren’t sure, even after you’d heard how he asked, but Joe was waiting and looking what could only be described as hopeful and, when you really thought about it, if you said yes and found there wasn’t a real connection you could still probably get a decent fuck out of him because there was definitely some sort of chemistry between you even if it didn’t go any further than that, “yeah okay. I guess we should give it a proper chance.”   
You returned to the café with a date set for the next week and Joe’s number and he left with a more accurate contact list.

You still had your reservations about Joe when you arrived at the restaurant, but you pushed them aside as best you could and began to look around for him. No sign. Instantly you felt more anxious and tense, rubbing at the moonstone necklace again in the hopes it would bring better luck. Maybe this was all just some kind of sick game to him. Maybe you’d be left waiting again and he’d never show and then you’d never be able to enter this restaurant again because being stood up there once wasn’t great but twice was fucking shameful especially by the same guy and people would start to know you as the chick who scares off all her dates before they even start and maybe you should just leave now and save yourself the trouble because he’s not coming and why do you let yourself get hurt like this maybe the solution was to move into the mountains and join a nunnery and take a vow of silence and –”  
“Y/N, over here,”  
Your panicked train of thought was broken as Joe waved you over, the table he’d claimed was hidden behind a column that had blocked your view. With a slight shake of your head and a deep breath you pulled a smile onto your face and joined him at the table.   
“I’m glad you could make it,” he said, leaning in to kiss your cheek, “truth be told, I was a little worried you’d cancel.”  
“I still might,” you warned. Part of you wanted to hold onto the anger and frustration of the previous few weeks, just in case.  
Joe seemed to sense as much, “Look, I get it. Obviously we got off on the wrong foot but I’d like to start again on um, the other foot I guess. So can we call a truce? Just for tonight. If you want to go back to hating me tomorrow you can.”  
You sighed, “Sure. You’re right, I said I’d give you a chance so I should actually give you a chance.”  
Joe smiled softly, “Okay, well, in that case. My name’s Joe, pleasure to meet you. I was really glad your friend approached me at the bar. I would have talked to you myself except I was technically part of a bachelor party.”  
You were about to respond when a figure approached your table and began speaking.  
“Hi welcome to _Lorenzo’s_ , my name’s Billie and I’ll- oh my gosh it’s you two.”   
You gave Joe a slightly worried look and found the same expression on his face.  
“You’re the couple that came in on different nights,” Billie said, “we’ve had a bet going on whether you’d turn up together or not.”  
“Oh, umm, o-okay,” you stuttered.  
“We were going to call it at the end of the month. A couple of boys in the kitchen will be pissed you showed up though, lost them $20 each since they thought you’d never work it out. Is this your first date?”  
“Sorry,” Joe said, “what’s going on?”  
Billie rolled her eyes as if she was explaining something very obvious to someone very stupid, “We met her,” she pointed at you, “when she came in for a first date, asked if there was a Joe here waiting for her, and then got stood up. Felt super bad about it. But then the next day the same thing happens except you’re the one sitting on your own. So I asked for your name and when you said it was Joe it seemed too coincidental and I realised you must have been looking for each other but got your wires crossed. So I was talking with a couple of the other waitresses about it and a few of the chefs heard and then the boys who wash the dishes got in on it and some of them thought you’d work it out and come back for an actual date and some of them thought you wouldn’t so we all chipped in $20 and put it aside and said after a couple of months we’d see if either of you showed up again and decide who won. Thanks for getting me a little extra cash.”  
“Uhhh you’re welcome. I guess,” Joe said, “C-can we order now?”  
“Right, yes, of course. Do you want to hear the specials?”

After that it was easier to drop whatever baggage you were still holding on to. There was something about being accosted and told you were the subject of a restaurant-wide bet that united you. Plus Joe had shown he was willing to put everything behind him so it was only right you show him the came courtesy. For a while you talked about how weird it was that people had been discussing and wagering money over your relationship status and then about the food. Joe asked if you’d eaten there before and when you said you’d taken some home after last time he looked a little sheepish and asked how you’d liked it, confessing Italian was one of his favourite cuisines.  
“I mean, not that I was ever going to hate Italian food since I’m a Mazzello. Kind of part of the family heritage really.”  
“Don’t worry, no explanation needed. Italian food is superior to all other food.”  
“I knew you were my kind of girl,” he laughed, “This is actually one of my favourite restaurants so I’m very happy you like it.”  
The more you talked the more you found you had in common. Your tastes in music and movies overlapped and when you mentioned Jurassic Park amongst your favourites, he laughed and said he was the kid in it. Which got you talking about his job and yours. Joe encouraged you to keep talking about anything that made you excited or passionate and whenever you spoke, he’d listen in rapt attention and then ask questions or make comments that proved he’d actually listened. You found yourself leaning in closer, partly because the noise in the restaurant picked up as more people arrived but also just because you wanted to be closer to him. There were a few more awkward moments but they were the sort of thing you’d get on any first date, reaching for the salt at the same time or being asked a question and having to hurriedly swallow a mouthful of food before you could answer. You made Joe laugh right as he took a sip of his drink which nearly had him choking but it didn’t seem to phase him at all. He took it in his stride and made a joke in return. And you liked that about him. He seemed confident in himself, comfortable with his thoughts and feelings and opinions. He hadn’t bragged about being in movies but hadn’t tried to hide it when it did come up. And when the conversation turned to the encounter outside the _Twisted Ox_ when he’d kissed you he didn’t get embarrassed. You made a joke about backing him up against a wall and instantly regretted it, unsure if it had crossed a line or if he’d feel uncomfortable with it but he just laughed and agreed it wouldn’t be hard.   
“Not really a secret that I like a woman who can take control,” he shrugged after you apologised, “besides, what you saw was nothing. Choke me and then you’ll see.”  
You’d never met anyone who was so willing to be so open and, though your own face felt flushed, you couldn’t stop from being curious and imagining what might happen after you left the restaurant.

You weren’t sure Joe was the sort of guy who’d sleep with someone after a first date and, normally you’d have said you weren’t, but something about him had you hoping he was. You supposed there’d always been some sort of tension between you, masked under layers of snapped comments and passive aggressive actions. But now that you were on a date it was clear that it had been more than rivalry, more than just sexual tension too. There was something electric between you. It had taken a while to accept that but now that you had you were enjoying it. He was sweet and funny and cared about what you said, despite everything that had happened between you. So when Joe took your hand as you left and insisted on dropping you home, you didn’t argue. What you did do was kegels, sitting in the passenger seat of Joe’s car, hoping he couldn’t tell. If he could, he didn’t say anything, but he also didn’t say anything when you called him a slow driver.   
“Here we are,” he said as he pulled up outside your building.  
You looked at the dirty grey stone and then back at Joe, weighing up whether you should ask him up or not. He beat you to it.  
“I think I should walk you to your door though. Make sure you get in safely.”  
“That’d be nice, thanks.”  
Once again he took your hand as you headed inside and over to the elevator. You both stood in silence, listening to the machinery clank and whir until the doors dinged open.   
“You sure you want to risk being trapped in here again?” you asked.  
“Absolutely. Though, I will warn you that if the power cuts out again I will have to kiss you.”  
“It’d definitely help me not panic,” you giggled, “but I’ll warn you that I might have to push you against a wall and choke you.”  
Joe let out a breath that sounded shaky and you could have sworn he was holding back a whimper. But the power stayed on and the elevator trundled up to your floor.   
“Well, this is me,” you said softly as you approached your door.  
“It’s a very nice door, suits you,” Joe chuckled.  
“Do you want to see the inside?” You were almost surprised by the bold move but something about Joe made it seem less daring than it would have with other men.  
“I’d love to.”

Joe followed you in glancing around your living room, taking in as much as he could.  
“Do you want a drink? I’ve got some soft drink in the fridge or there’s tea or coffee,”  
“Tea sounds nice,”  
“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be back in a minute,”  
He smiled and made his way over to the shelf where you kept a number of books and DVDs you’d picked up over the years as well as some small knickknacks for decoration. While he was occupied you hurried to your room to double check you’d left it tidy. You were shoving some jeans that had been kicked across the floor into your dirty washing hamper when you heard Joe laugh. Curious, you headed back towards where you’d left him and found him still standing at your bookshelf, holding a small figurine of a pink sheep in his hand.  
“You’ve got a little Dom figurine?” He asked when he heard you approach.  
Of all the junk on your shelf, that was one of the last things you’d expected him to react to, “You play Animal Crossing?”  
“Of course. It’s adorable and, like I said earlier, I have to travel for work sometimes so it’s a good thing to have on a flight or for the in-between moments on set y’know. Also, easiest way to get to sleep is to do some late night fishing.”  
You laughed and turned to face him properly, leaning against the bench, “My friend Millie, the one you met, she found Dom for me. Also got me a Coach since he was my first villager and a Poppy. They should be there somewhere too,” you walked over to the shelf and began looking around, “Here they are.”  
Joe smiled when you pointed out the other two figurines.   
“Do you have any favourite villagers?”  
“That’s such a hard question,” he groaned, still looking at your shelf, “I’ve, um, I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for Elvis. Joey also automatically found his way into my heart. For obvious reasons.”  
You couldn’t help but chuckle along with Joe as he turned to face you. There was something about hearing him talk about cute video game characters that was so charming. With barely another thought you caught him in a kiss. You’d meant for it to be quick but when you pulled away he followed and you found yourself kissing him again, longer and deeper. He sighed against your lips and grabbed your waist as you held on to his shirt, scrunching the material in your fingers. The second attempt at a date had definitely been worth it. For a while you balanced there, even after your lips left his, just soaking in the moment.

Joe pouted when he felt you step back and opened his eyes, “All good?”  
“Yeah, just thought we could be more comfortable.”  
He nodded and let you pull him towards the couch, laughing a little as you pressed on his chest to make him sit. You kicked your shoes off before climbing onto his lap.  
“A little warm up before you show me your bedroom?”  
“Who said that’s where tonight’s going to go?” You chuckled, leaning in until your lips were almost brushing his again, “Maybe I just want to make out and send you packing while you’re still hard.”   
He whined as you kissed him again, firmly but not rough, one hand tugging at the hair around the back of his neck. Joe didn’t argue. Not even when you shifted to mouth at his neck, decorating his skin with traces of your lipstick. All he did was tilt his head a little further, inviting you to do more. When you reached his collar bone you sat back to admire your work.  
“Such a pretty boy,” you cooed, tracing one of the marks with your finger before dragging it up to his jaw, “I like this scruffy look you’ve got going, really works for you.”  
Joe’s tongue darted out to lick his lips as he looked up at you with soft eyes, “Yeah? You think so?”  
“I’m sitting on your lap aren’t I?”  
He let out a soft chuckle at that, “You are.”  
“Gives me a very good view of your handsome face.” You ran a finger down the length of his nose, “And makes it so easy to –” you kissed him again, hand falling to rest against his chest.   
Joe tilted his head against the back of the couch, relaxed into the softness of your lips, fingers briefly squeezing your hips before slipping down closer to your ass. You rocked against him, just a little, feeling warm all over.   
“It’s mean to tease,” he complained, though there was no conviction to his tone.  
You ground yourself against the bulge in the front of his trousers, earning a small whine, “It’s pathetic how hard you are from it.”  
Joe narrowed his eyes in an attempted glare but his flushed cheeks told another story and he didn’t complain when you slipped your tongue into his mouth again. For a while neither of you said much more. Communication was done solely through muffled hums and deep breaths as you lost track of time and space and everything that wasn’t each other. But eventually you needed more. There was only so long you could be content with grinding on Joe’s lap, no matter how hard he got or what you’d said about sending him home. You brought your hand up to rest against his throat and he moaned.   
“You weren’t kidding about that, didn’t even have to apply much pressure.”  
“If you’d done any more I might have been left in a slightly embarrassing and stick situation,”  
“Don’t tempt me baby,”  
“God, do you have any idea how sexy you sound”   
“He’s cute and he’s charming. Might have to reward you a little,” you tightened you grip on the sides of his throat and Joe’s breathing instantly turned to panting as he grinned, “Think maybe it’s time you saw my room, if you want.”  
“Yes, I definitely want. Please,”  
“Aww so polite. C’mon, come with me.”

Joe didn’t even glance around your room as you entered, much more interested in what was underneath your clothes. His fingers flew to the zip of your dress before you could say anything, exposing you inch by inch as he nipped lightly at your shoulder. He was bold in his overexcitement, eager to move things along now that you’d hinted at what was coming. You let him go for a bit, enjoying the sensation of his scruff scratching on your neck. When you were standing in just your underwear you turned around and begin working on his shirt buttons but he was unwilling to let you go now that he’d got his hands on you. It took a warning word before he stopped trying to unhook your bra and instead helped you remove his own clothes, leaving his shirt and pants where they landed.  
“What happened baby? You don’t wanna be my good boy anymore?”  
“I want you so bad Y/N,”  
His neediness was amusing to say the least, but you told him to be patient and get on the bed. He did but not without kissing you again and attempting to pull you down with him. You tutted at him as you fingered the waistband of his boxers, double checking it’s what he wanted, and watched as he bit his lip. A nod was all the signal you needed before his underwear joined what was already strewn across the floor. It was then you joined him on the bed, once again straddling his lap, though just the sight of his cock resting against his stomach had you wanting more. You had to pin his arms above his head to stop him from trying to undress you further.  
“Settle down pretty boy, or you wont get what you want.”  
“C’mon Y/N,”  
“In a minute, just want to talk a bit first,” you laughed softly when he groaned but you could also feel your own arousal pooling in your panties and hoped he’d let you get through it with minimal interruptions, “Is this okay? Me holding your wrists like this?”  
“Yes. Be better if you were on my dick bu- ow,”  
“Behave or I’ll have to pinch you again. Now, are you clean?”  
“Yes,”  
“Good. I’m on the pill so that means I don’t have to worry about finding a condom.”  
“Must be hard for you to talk so calmly right now,”  
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”  
“Well if you can’t even wait the ten seconds it would take to get the rubber out of my wallet then you must be fucking aching to ride me. I’m very impressed you can even string two words together.” It was the same snarky tone you’d heard before but instead of it pissing you off it just turned you on more. “Unless it’s just because you’re the kind of slut who likes it raw.”  
“Careful there, Joe,”  
“That’s it isn’t it? I bet just the thought of someone using you to cum in turns you into a horny mess. Is it the idea of being used without any care for you pleasure? Or is the danger of getting knocked up? I bet I could flip you over and slide into you and you’d beg me to keep it in you until I was finished, until I’d turned you into a little cumdump brood bitch.”  
“Take another look baby, I’m in control here,”  
“Yeah, because I wanted it that way. Told you I like a woman who can take charge. But we both know I’m bigger and stronger and if I wanted to I could have you spread out under me in a second. And you’d let it happen just to feel me cum so deep inside you. Oh, was that a little moan I heard?”  
“No,” you grit out, uninterested in playing his game, trying not to let on how much his words affected you.  
“I think it was. I think you’re getting all wet just knowing you’re so close to having a load dropped in you. Because that’s all you want isn’t it? To have your greedy pussy full of cock and cum. What are you waiting for then, take it.”  
You shook your head, trying to clear some of the lust, “I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work. You’re just going to have to wait even longer now.”  
“C’mon Y/N, fuck me. You want it as much as I do.”  
“No. My house my rules baby and you’re getting too bratty.”  
“Fuck the brat out of me then,”  
“Nice try but I told you already, you’re going to have to wait,” you emphasised the last word and Joe groaned, “You’ve got to show me you can be good enough to earn it.”  
“I can, I will,” his voice was already softer than moments before, no longer attempting to provoke you into anything, “Can I eat your pussy? Make you feel good?”  
You made a show of thinking the idea over, humming as if you were weighing up your options. Joe squirmed, still pinned down by the wrists, until you said a short but bright _okay_.   
“Thank you,” he sighed, watching closely as you stood to remove the last of your clothes, “fuck you’re hot.”  
“Keep that up and I might just let you cum after all,” you laughed, “You going to move so I can lie down?”  
“Oh, I figured you’d just,” Joe, propping himself up on one arm, gestured towards his face with the other, “take a seat.”  
You were a little taken aback by the turn the night seemed to be taking, but you’d come this far and if you were being honest, Joe was pretty right when he’d suggested you were aching for more. Plus, it would make it easy to tease him a bit. You let him get comfortable before swinging your leg over him, bracing your hands on his chest as you lowered yourself down. He didn’t hold back. Maybe he thought you’ll be more lenient in a port-orgasm haze or maybe he was hoping that you’ll realise his mouth wasn’t enough and his patience wouldn’t have to last too much longer. Or maybe he had more of a masochistic streak than you imagined and he kind of wanted to be sent home still so hard it hurts. Whatever it was that drove him did wonders for you. He was perhaps a little overeager to start, sloppier than you needed, like he was trying to get his tongue everywhere all at once. But he calmed down and found a good rhythm soon enough, pulling a low moan from you as he latched onto one of your lips and sucked hard. You thought you might have been able to feel him smile as he let you go, but you only had a moment to judge before you felt his tongue slide between your folds again, carefully lapping up your arousal. Joe hummed; made you gasp at the sensation. You reached for his cock, partially to reward him, leant over and spit on it before spreading the saliva over his whole length with your hand. It was Joe’s turn to gasp, the sharp exhale warm against your cunt as his hips involuntarily jerked up to meet you. But the added stimulation only seemed to encourage him and he went at you with twice the fervour, the wet noises he made as he sucked at you only getting louder, more pornographic. You watched as a drop of precum formed at his tip and couldn’t resist swiping your thumb through it, bringing it to your lips. It wqas salty, a little bitter, but not totally unpleasant. But Joe whined when you dragged your thumb over his tip and you couldn’t resist leaning forward and pressing your lips to the same spot and then again a little lower but with open mouth. There was a feint shadow of lipstick left behind, a faded version of the marks you’d created on Joe’s neck. He whined again, a truly delightful noise that went straight to your core for multiple reasons. You were curious just how loud he could get, how far you could push him so you licked a stripe back up to his tip and took him into your mouth. The shift in your position with how far forward you’re leaning put your clit in easy reach of Joe’s tongue and he took full advantage, drawing circles around the sensitive nub, intermittently sucking on it. Your brain had trouble knowing what to focus on, Joe’s mouth or his cock, your attention being pulled in both directions at once making it hard to focus. It’s only when you took Joe a little further into your mouth and he let out a broken moan that you decided. You worked part of his shaft with your hand, the rest disappearing into your mouth as you bobbed up and down. The stimulation on your cunt became background noise, though every so often Joe hit you with a particularly strong beat that made your whole body thrum. He played himself as much as he did you though, every one of those leg shaking, stomach clenching jolts making you moan around his dick. You heard something muffled from under you and released his cock, sitting up on your knees.  
“What was that?”  
“I said I-I’m close,” his voice was higher pitched than normal with a slight tremor in it.  
“Aw baby, is that all it takes? You’re adorable.”  
“Please,”  
“Not yet,” you lowered yourself against his mouth again, a clear instruction on how to earn his orgasm. _He’s a fast learner_ , you thought to yourself as his tongue toyed with your entrance, lapping at the hole before sliding in a little. When he seemed sufficiently calm you took him in your hand again. He tensed a little but didn’t stop tonguing you. You would have kept blowing him but you were a little worried he wouldn’t have the restraint to hold back and it was definitely easier to gauge how close he was when you could see him properly. So you contented yourself with jerking him off instead, able to feel him twitch against your palm when he got close to the edge. And each time you pulled your hand away, denied him the release he obviously craved, he put even more effort into pleasuring you. Eventually you had to take pity on him. Each slight touch had him whimpering into your pussy, his fingertips so tight on your legs that you wouldn’t be surprised to see bruises already appearing. You sat up straighter, braced yourself on his chest and rolled your hips, your mouth falling open with how good it felt. Now that you were only focused on your own orgasm, you felt it build quickly and it didn’t take too much longer for you to fall apart, legs shaking on either side of Joe’s head. You didn’t move until the last wave had rolled through you, panting for breath, the echo of Joe’s name still on your lips.

Joe swore as you shuffled back to where you’d started and raised his arm to wipe his jaw clean, “Can I please cum now?”  
“You still want to? I guess I could let you hump the mattress.”  
He groaned like he thought you were going to edge him again and you couldn’t help but laugh a little, looking down at his flushed face. Traces of your orgasm were still smeared across his chin.  
“Alright, I’ll stop teasing.”  
“Thank fuck,”  
“But we’re gonna go at my pace, okay? You don’t get to call the shots,”  
Joe nodded rapidly and let his arms fall above his head again, exactly where they’d been when you pinned his wrists down, “Anything, just please let me cum,”  
“You’re cute when you’re pent up,” you brushed your fingers through his hair and adjusted yourself to be more comfortable.  
He let out a breath through his nose and pouted, “I’m cute all the time,”  
You chuckled and leaned down to kiss him though his neediness was evident even in the way he kissed back. He hissed as you took hold of his cock and lined him up. You went slow, taking him inch by inch, giving you both time to adjust. When he finally bottomed out he let out a string of thank yous, his eyes squeezed shut.  
“God, you feel so so good, Y/N,”  
You smiled to yourself and tried not to clench on him too much until he could pull himself together. It was worth the wait. When he nodded that he was ready you swivelled your hips experimentally, feeling just how well he filled you.   
“Oh fuck,” he groaned, “I don’t know how long I’ll last,”  
“‘s okay baby,”  
“m-more fun if you cum though,”  
“But it’s most fun if you cum in me, remember?”  
“How could I forget,” the second half of _forget_ came out in a grunt as you chose that time to raise and lower yourself. You went slow to start, adjusting your position until you found the one that had Joe hitting just the right spot. It was impossible to hold back a moan as you picked up speed. You placed one hand on his chest to keep you balanced as the other slipped down to your clit.   
“God that’s hot,” Joe groaned, “you’re gonna make me cum soon,”  
“Good. Not stopping until you do,”  
“Y-you want it that ba-ad, huh. Fucking filthy how desperate you are for it. If-f you don’t get kn-nocked up this time I’ll just have – motherfucker – have to hold you down a-and try again,”  
Joe’s dirty talk only spurred you on, made you moan louder as you chased your release.  
“Come on Joe, cum in me,”  
“Choke me,”  
You didn’t need to be told twice, moving your hand from his chest to his throat, tightening your fingers until he groaned and you felt his seed coat your walls. You relaxed your grip on his throat but otherwise kept up exactly as you were, so close to your own release. It took a few more circles on your clit and Joe whining as he became more sensitive but finally it hit you, your moan catching in your throat as you shuddered and rode it out.

The first thing Joe did once you’d collapsed beside him was pull you into a bruising kiss.  
“That was so hot,”’ he mumbled against your lips, “just…fuck.”  
You hummed your agreement, still trying to collect yourself, “gonna have to let me up in a second. I gotta clean up.”  
Joe glanced down to where his cum was leaking from between your legs onto the sheet, “fucking hell that’s…” he swallowed thickly, “what if you didn’t clean up and you gave me two minutes and we went again?”  
“Really?”  
“Hey you edged me like four or five times, I’m kinda still horny,”  
“God I’m really glad I said yes to this date.”  
“Me too. Sorry about the whole mess to start with,”  
“Yeah, same. Sorry I compared you to Magneto,”  
“You did?”  
“Once or twice. Might have been a slight misjudgement though, you’re actually pretty great.”  
“I’d go so far as to say I’m,” he paused for a second and then with a stupid grin said, “a stand up guy,”  
“Was that a pun? I take it back, you’re a villain,” you laughed, poking him in the side.  
“Yeah but a villain you’re going to let sleep over, right?”


End file.
